


Fruitcake

by storyranger



Series: The Knight and Shining Artist Chronicles [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Gen, Pain, Poisoning, Poor Problem Solving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyranger/pseuds/storyranger
Summary: "How had he been Jack Zimmerman’s only friend for the better part of 4 years and still tried alcohol as a pain management strategy? He was an idiot, and his stomach hurt, and he deserved it, and he was going to deserve it when Lardo dumped his stupid ass in the morning."The time Shitty definitely didn't use his words.





	1. Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Rated 13+ for binge drinking and mild nudity. Set during Junior Year #5 - The After Kegster.

He was in no way sloshed off of half a cup of tub juice, and he knew Lardo knew it. But he was grateful to her for giving him an easy out of the hole he’d managed to dig himself into. One could say Shitty was not adapting well to law school. He had never been a slacker, but he was used to a much higher level of free time. Not to mention a much higher level of social interaction with people with diverse interests.

And it hurt, to become so isolated and then to have his best friend, the person whose entire universe he used to inhabit, suddenly pushing him away for new people and new experiences just when he needed Jack most. Lardo was doing her best, but Lardo needed time and space to deal with her own stuff. She couldn’t always be putting the team on her back as well as him.

He _knew_ Jack was seeing someone. It was so _obvious_. And the fact that Jack was hiding it, that Jack didn’t trust him with this… it hurt. It hurt a lot.

So, despite knowing this was the worst problem-solving solution ever, Shitty did 4 keg stands and drank half a bottle of rum in an effort to drown the pain.

It failed miserably. Shitty was blessed (or cursed) to be that particular type of drunk who was really, truly fine until he was suddenly very, very NOT. Over the first ¼ of the rum bottle he had multiple discussions with the frogs, giving them sound life advice and work-out tips. After the full half, when no one else was sober enough to notice him, things careened swiftly off a cliff. He hadn’t wanted to wait inside for the bathroom, so he snuck out to the backyard to piss against the fence in the designated area. He couldn’t find his pants after he’d relieved himself. He couldn’t find the house and he fell on his ass, hard, when he tried to go back inside. He couldn’t remember his own name as he sat there on the grass, trying to figure out how he’d gotten here. A tight ball of pain blossomed in his stomach and he doubled over, whimpering quietly.

The last thought he had before he blacked out was “ _I hope Lardo doesn’t call the fucking ambulance_.”


	2. Fear

It hadn’t been a particularly meaningful game to anyone other than Jack and Shitty, so the after-kegster broke up pretty much when midnight hit. The residents of the Haus went to bed or slept where they lay, and everyone else headed into the night, to homes or clubs or hookups.

Lardo was buzzed, definitely. She had a pong reputation to maintain, and she had needed to find a new partner worthy of her skill. She thought Dex _might_ be good enough with a little training, but no one could match her previous pong partner and current boyfriend.

Speaking of boyfriends, hers had disappeared, and she’d been hoping to get some much-missed sex out of him. Drunk sex was less fun then sober sex, but it was better than no sex. “ _Maybe he went to bed already_?” she wondered, heading upstairs to check her room.

No Shitty.

Okay, maybe he’d been drunker then he looked and had fallen asleep downstairs and she’d just missed him when she did the sweep for broken glass. Totally plausible. She checked downstairs. No Shitty.

Lardo was miffed now, and more than a little horny, and had that bastard gotten bored and tried to drive back to Harvard tonight? That didn’t _sound_ like Shitty. He never drove after more then one beer, and he never left without saying goodbye. She checked the front yard.

His car was still in the driveway.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, sprinting to the backyard as she remembered him slipping out there to piss, well over an hour ago.

 

***

 

After Jack had been forced to lie about his relationship status, Bitty hadn’t felt much like partying. But he couldn’t exactly sleep with the ruckus happening below him, so he busied himself browsing comments on his last vlog for good questions for his next Q&A.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on his door.

“Not the bathroom!” hollered Bitty, fed-up with college.

“Bittle, it’s me. I need your help.” He opened the door to a frantic Lardo, her every muscle twitching.

“It’s Shitty. I think the goddamned fucker may have drunk himself to death.”

Any residual anger Bitty may have been feeling towards Shitty evaporated. “Have you called 911 yet?” he asked, going into full-on Mom mode.

“I can’t. He’s still on his parent’s health insurance. They’ll kill him if they find out. Please. I can’t lift him on my own.” Lardo’s voice broke, and Bitty knew how much it was killing her to have to ask for help. He gritted his teeth yet again at the idiocy of the Knight family’s elders, then grabbed Lardo’s hand and pulled her into the hall.

“Show me where he is.”

 

***

 

“Where he was” turned out to be curled in the fetal position, facedown along the fence of the backyard, pants-less. There were grass stains on his boxers from falling on his ass, and he smelled like a Southern grandma’s fruitcake. He was still breathing.

“Son of Our Lord on a motorcycle, how much did he drink?!” Bitty helped Lardo uncurl Shitty and roll him so his head was propped up by his shoulder.

“I don’t know. _I don’t know_. I should have been watching him. What the hell kind of fuckwit girlfriend _am_ I that I didn’t even _see it_?” Lardo’s face was contorted in anguish. She checked his breathing again.

“Lardo, he’s a grown man. He may not always act like one, but he can take care of himself. It’s not your job to watch him.”

“Don’t you see, Bitty? I said he was sloshed off a glass of tub juice. I embarrassed him in front of everyone. I all but dared him to prove he’s still a heavyweight. This is all my fault,” she wailed, beginning to tear up. Bitty shifted next to her and took her hand.

“The way I see it, Shitty made a fool of himself tonight, and you saved face for him by convincing everyone he was drunk. Now, whatever nonsense is going on between him and Jack, that’s for Shitty to work out. Who found him before he could puke and choke on himself?”

Lardo cracked the faintest hint of a smile. “Me.”

“And who came and got help from the only other sane person in the Haus?” he continued.

“Me.”

“And who’s gonna carry Shitty inside before he freezes to death?”

Lardo groaned.

“Me.”

“Us,” said Bitty, firmly. “I have your back.”


	3. Anger

It took them over half an hour, but they managed to drag Shitty up the stairs and deposit him into the bathtub. Bitty worried he’d be uncomfortable. Lardo, now reassured that she was _not_ the cause of her boyfriend’s near-coma, reasoned it was better than having to clean the bathroom floor if he puked. And puke he did, about 30 seconds after regaining consciousness. (No one actually noticed when he regained consciousness, not even Shitty at first. This was probably for the best.)

It’s not pleasant to watch a friend suffer, even a friend you’re still mildly irritated with, and Bitty’s heart broke as he watched Shitty expel wave after wave of fluid. “Did he eat _anything_ today?” he asked softly, sitting down on the closed toilet seat. He handed Lardo her refilled water bottle and an Advil he had scrounged from her desk. She cheers’d his pill ironically with hers, and they downed them simultaneously.

“My stupid, stupid sweetheart. What the fuck did you do this for?” she asked, gently stroking Shitty’s hair.

“I had no idea things had gotten so bad between him and Jack,” Bitty blurted, immediately realising how incriminating that sounded and regretting it. If Lardo suspected anything, though, she kept her mouth shut.

“Neither did I. I keep trying to get him to talk about law school, but he keeps saying it’s boring and he’d rather hear about the Wellies. I know he’s not happy, and pretending he’s okay is just hurting both of us. But I can’t make him talk about it. I’m not his priest, he doesn’t owe me a goddamned confession. I just want to _be there_ for him. I knew he was going to law school when we started this relationship, I didn’t expect it to be _sunshine_ and godDAMNED _FUCKING_ ROSES!” Lardo breathed deeply, aware she was now yelling. She buried her head in her hands, suddenly exhausted. Bitty knelt next to her and awkwardly enveloped her in a hug.

“I just don’t know how to talk to him sometimes,” she whispered into Bitty’s chest. “I… I don’t want him to end up like Jack did.”

Bitty winced, but he knew in his heart she was right. Jack had let the expectations of others drive him to take ridiculous risks, and it had almost destroyed him. Bitty knew that Jack had regrets about what he’d done for hockey, and Jack was scared that his hard-asssed attitude in sophomore and junior year may have pushed others down a similar path. But no one could stop Shitty going down that road unless Shitty _wanted_ to be stopped.

“Lardo, you know Shitty’s crazy about you, right?”

She nodded, taking another deep breath. “I know. I’m just scared that won’t be enough. And maybe that’s why he’s so stressed, you know? Maybe I’m distracting him.”

“ _No, not you, Lardo. Never you. Jesus fuck, Lardo, you’re the only thing holding me together right now_ ,” thought Shitty. He tried to tell her, tried to say anything, but he couldn’t make his lips form words.

“No one distracts Shitty unless he wants them to,” said Bitty, quietly. Shitty thanked any gods that were listening for Bitty in that moment.

“Thanks, Bits. You should go to bed. I got this.”

“You sure? I’m fine to staaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaay… totally fine,” he finished lamely, his yawn betraying him.

“You were on drunk duty last month. You’ve done your community service this semester. Still pretty sure Tango owes his life to you…” She trailed off, her joking tone lost as she realised how tonight could have ended.

“Come get me, okay? If you need to.”

“ _Fuck what did I do fuck what happened fuck why didn’t Lardo tell me sooner fuck it hurts fuck painpainpain fuck what did I do fuck what did I do fuck Lardo I’m so sorry fuck Lardo this isn’t about you fuck I’m so mad at Jack fuck what did I do fuck painpainpain_ …” Shitty’s throat burned from acid and his stomach still wasn’t done with him. Only bile came out. Shitty knew blood would be next, if he was as ill as he felt. He’d only ever been this drunk once before, in frogs’ week. He’d shit himself back then. That was the Long Story of how Shitty got his nickname. He’d drunk himself sick on a free bottle of scotch at a sophomore party because someone mistook the full mustache for maturity, and wound up passing out in a ditch on his way back to res. When he woke up, his pants were ruined and his dignity tarnished, and Johnston’s reaction to the story at practise was “That’s shitty.” The subject’s roaring laughter at the bad pun had cemented the now-infamous nickname.

How had he been Jack Zimmerman’s only friend for the better part of 4 years and _still_ tried alcohol as a pain management strategy? He was an idiot, and his stomach _hurt_ , and he deserved it, and he was going to deserve it when Lardo dumped his stupid ass in the morning.

That was the final straw. The thought of losing Lardo on top of the pain burning holes through his insides was enough to make the tears come. (Shitty had never been too proud to cry in front of people, but he preferred to cry for worthy causes, not his own self-pity.) He coughed and puked again. Lardo took her shoes off and climbed into the tub with him, taking his hand in hers. He recoiled at her touch, embarrassed.

“Shitty. Sweetheart. Just relax. It’s just me. It’s Lardo. You’re okay.”

Shitty squeezed her hand back, hard. He needed to tell her how much he loved her, needed to tell her how sorry he was, how wrong he’d been to hide things from her after he’d almost torched this once already at the start. That he’d never hurt her like this again.

“It hurts,” was all he managed.

“I know, baby. I know. And it’s gonna hurt for a little while longer.” She rubbed his back soothingly.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” rasped Shitty, desperation bleeding from his voice. Lardo’s heart sank as she realised he must have been conscious much longer then she’d thought.

“Shhhhhh. Shitty. I was scared, and I said a lot of things you weren’t meant to hear like this. We’re gonna talk tomorrow.”

“Lardo-”

“Tonight we deal with the alcohol poisoning, tomorrow we worry about feelings, okay?”

Shitty nodded weakly, squeezing her hand as his empty stomach cramped in on itself. She dragged him as gently as she could to a seated position and turned on the shower, drenching both of them. When she was reasonably sure he was clean, she wrapped a towel around his shoulders and stood over him, taking his face in her hands.

“Shitty, we can’t sleep in the bathtub, someone’s going to need it tomorrow. We’re going to my room, but I can’t lift you alone. You have to help me, okay?” Her voice was calm and deliberate, her tone far kinder then he’d ever heard her talk to a drunk. It gave him hope, and he pulled himself together enough to walk across the hall to her room, promptly tripping over a pair of her heels and collapsing just inside the doorway. Lardo began towelling him off as best she could, removing soaked clothing as she went. He mustered just enough energy to drag himself, naked and shivering, into her bed when she pronounced him “dry enough”.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, rapidly slipping out of consciousness.

“Tomorrow,” she chided, kissing his cheek softly.


	4. Patch

“So you were so pissed at Zimmerman for lying to you that you decided to try to kill yourself with Captain Morgan’s?” Lardo wasn’t angry, per se, but she definitely wasn’t impressed.

“It would seem so.” Shitty sighed, rolling over to face Lardo. He marvelled at how this perfect, fey-like creature was still lying in bed next to him after the ass he’d made of himself last night.

“I wasn’t thinking about dying. I wasn’t thinking, obviously. I just felt hurt that Jack wouldn’t trust me, and I was so sick of feeling lonely… I just didn’t want to feel anything for a while.”

“Bro, for a law student, you can be really fucking stupid.”

“I know. And I promise, it won’t happen again.”

Lardo twisted til she was sitting over him, both hands on his chest, pinning him. Her tone grew deadly serious.

“No more hiding how you feel. I can’t help you if you won’t tell me when you’re in trouble.”

“You shouldn’t have to help,” protested Shitty. “I chose this. I should be handling it on my own.”

“Not your call, Shitty. You asked me to be your girlfriend. Now you have to let me help.”

Shitty sighed in defeat. “Okay. I promise.”

 “I love you, Shitty.”

They realised at the same time it was the first time she’d said it. He arched up and kissed her, tender, grateful. After an eternity he collapsed, spent. They lay like that for a long time, until Shitty regained enough strength to dress his naked ass and find his car keys.

“Lardo?”

“Mhm?” She looked up from her phone, a half-written text message to Bitty open on the screen.

“I don’t think I’m safe to drive. Still feel a little drunk.”

“Probably are, bro. You wanna just stay tonight?”

“Lardo, you don’t have to-”

“Not your call, Shits. Come on, let’s see if Bitty wants to go for brunch.”

Shitty clued in. “I’m paying, aren’t I?”

“Damn straight, fuckwit.”

 

***

 

Was everything 100% okay when Shitty drove away Monday morning? No. He was still mad at Jack, and he still hated law school with all his heart. But it was gonna be, someday. And that was all he could ask for right now.


End file.
